Memory, Bosom-spring Of Joy.

The Sense Of Beauty Is Intuitive, And Beauty Itself Is All That Inspires Pleasure Without, And Aloof From, And Even Contrarily To Interest.

Nature Has Her Proper Interest; And He Will Know What It Is, Who Believes And Feels, That Every Thing Has A Life Of Its Own, And That We Are All One Life.

The Fancy Is Indeed No Other Than A Mode Of Memory Emancipated From The Order Of Time And Space.

The Imagination ... That Reconciling And Mediatory Power, Which Incorporating The Reason In Images Of The Sense And Organizing (as It Were) The Flux Of The Senses By The Permanence And Self-circling Energies Of The Reason, Gives Birth To A System Of Symbols, Harmonious In Themselves, And Consubstantial With The Truths Of Which They Are The Conductors.

Love Is The Admiration And Cherishing Of The Amiable Qualities Of The Beloved Person, Upon The Condition Of Yourself Being The Object Of Their Action.